


if you've got the stuff, i know how she likes it

by iihappydaysii



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 1960s, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, It's Implied Though, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Multi, Polyamory, explicit m/f sex, no 'on screen' foursome sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 23:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16628663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: In 1960s California, Dan and Phil and their wives are all in love with each other.





	if you've got the stuff, i know how she likes it

Phil could hear the sound beyond the bedroom door. Could hear the Bobby Darin record spinning on the player, and the sound of their neighbors chatting in the living room. Dan had a hand over his mouth, he was biting on his thumb, and Phil was looking up at him from where he was on his knees.

Dan pushed his fingers through Phil’s hair, then tugged him in even closer. Dan always liked it when Phil would take him deep, and Phil liked it when Dan liked it. Generally, Phil just _liked_ Dan.

This was risky—sucking cock with a house of full of people—barely tucked out of sight behind the dresser if anyone happened to open the bedroom door and come in. But sometimes, God help them, they just couldn’t keep their hands or their mouths off each other.

Phil did the thing that Dan liked with his tongue, and Dan let out a groan that was too loud for even the hand in his mouth to conceal. Phil lightly pinched his leg to tell him to shut up, and Dan mouthed sorry down at him.

Phil rolled his eyes, but he didn’t take his mouth off Dan’s cock, didn’t stop licking and sucking and bobbing his head. They needed to hurry this thing up. They’d eventually be missed if they didn’t.

The door opened and Phil’s heart leapt, but Dan threw a firm hand to the back of Phil’s head to keep in him place.

“Are you two actually serious? _Today_? It’s the Fourth of July for Pete’s sake!” Jean said, rolling her eyes.

“We’re British, dear,” Dan gave his wife a cheeky grin. “It’s a day of mourning for us.”

She brushed something off the polka-dot skirt of her dress. “This is how you mourn? Putting your cock in your friend’s mouth?” It would be hard to have a dirtier mouth than Dan, but his wife gave him a run for his money.

“It’s a cultural difference,” Dan said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Just finish him off, Phil. We’re in the middle of the fucking neighborhood barbecue.”

Jean took the peep-toe heels she was wearing off and slipped on the pair of flats they’d gotten on the trip they’d taken to Paris. Both he and Dan looked over at her. She was taking her sweet time getting out of the bedroom.

“What? I have blisters, and they’re ripe.”

“ _Jean._ ” Dan grimaced. "I’m trying to have an orgasm here.”

Jean was beautiful—dark hair and darker eyes—and she was great in bed, but she was also almost constantly incorrigible. And blisters were not sexy no matter who was talking about them.

She rolled her eyes. “Next time, can you at least wait until president of the Junior League isn’t here? You know, Betty puts cups to doors.”

“Yeah, well, Phil does that too,” Dan said.

To get back at him for that, Phil wrapped his tongue around Dan’s shaft and flicked it a little under his foreskin, and apparently that was enough to have Dan hissing “Shit, fuck” and coming down Phil’s throat.

“Finally,” Jean said. “Honestly, I expected form from you, Lester.” She shot him a wink and then walked back out the bedroom door.

Dan slipped out of Phil’s mouth and he tucked himself back into his pants. “Your turn.”

Phil stood up. “Nah, mate. Your wife might actually poison my potato salad if I do that while Betty is still here. You can owe me one.”

Dan grabbed Phil by the collar of his shirt and tugged him in for a kiss. There was nothing like kissing Dan. The warmth of his wet mouth, the scratch of his stubble against Phil’s lips. It felt like a miracle every time he could have it.

“If I owe you two, will you fuck me?”

“I’ll do it anyway.”

This time, Phil kissed Dan and yes, still a little miracle.

When they finally managed to pull away from each other, they checked themselves in the mirror and gave each other the once over to make sure they didn’t look like they were doing what they were doing. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.

Dan pushed a lock of Phil’s hair back and smiled. “Perfect.”

 

. . .

 

“Honey, I smell like potato salad.” Peggy sighed, as Phil nosed at her neck, leaving kisses there. She actually smelled like lavender, like the real lavender from her herb garden.

“But I like potato salad.” Phil really did like Peggy’s potato salad. So did pretty much everyone. It won the neighborhood cold salad competition they’d had earlier this afternoon, and Phil was pretty proud of his wife. And Jean, who’d been hosting the competition, had been practically giddy as she’d handed the second place award to her arch nemesis, Betty.

Peggy adjusted her position where she was sat on the kitchen counter. “It really is just like Howell to wind you up and then send you home to me.”

“How did you—”

“Jean told me, Dear.”

“Oh.” Phil chuckled softly, then moved his mouth from her neck to her soft cheeks to her lips. They tasted like her pastel pink Mary Kay lipstick. He knew it would end up all over his mouth but he didn’t care. Not when he got to kiss her. “Oops.”

“I feel like I should call him up. Make him come over and finish up what he started.”

“I think…” Phil spoke between soft kisses, slotting between Peggy’s legs. “that you… just want him… over here… for yourself.”

“He _is_ a good kisser.”

Phil thought about earlier today, about the feeling of Dan’s mouth on his. “Isn’t he though?”

He knew his wife liked Dan’s mouth, that he liked hers, and Phil liked his, and he knew that Peggy liked Jean’s kiss, just like he did, and they knew, of course they knew, that they liked each other’s too. There had been times, in the beginning, when this was all new, that they’d needed reassurance, but it hadn’t been that way for a long time.

He pushed Peggy’s white dress up her thigh, running his fingers along her stockings. She shivered, leaned her head back, and pushed Phil’s hand further up her thigh to where her stockings ended. He felt her warm bare skin against his fingers and the soft hairs there before sliding his fingers under her knickers.

She let out a breath that sounded a lot like his name as he gently stroked around her clit with his thumb. He could feel her getting wetter against his hand as she moved into his touch. Slowly, he dragged his fingers down until they were pressing against the soft give of her entrance.

“Phil,” she whimpered.

“Yes?”

“Please.”

He remembered the first time they did this. All those years ago when they’d both been teenagers and his family was on holiday in Florida. They’d been in the back of her father’s Chevrolet, and she’d come on his fingers and he’d held her for a long time afterwards.

Phil slid a finger into her, and kissed her mouth as he did it. He could feel himself straining against his trousers. He’d been hard on and off all day, but at least he was here now, with Peggy’s hands on his arms and her breathy sounds, softening for him, opening up.

When he pulled a way from a kiss, she gave him a cheeky grin and reached up to put a hand in his hair. She pushed down a little and Phil knew exactly what she wanted. He started to kneel down, to ruck up her skirt over her thighs. Peggy scooted forward even more as Phil dragged her knickers and her stockings down off her legs.

Phil kissed both of her knees. She had the cutest knees. He loved seeing them out of stockings because they were dotted with freckles and he loved those freckles.

“Stop staring at my freckly knees and get on with it,” Peggy said, but there was fondness in her voice and in the warm look she had as she stared down at him.

“Can’t help it,” Phil said. “World’s best knees.”

But he knew what she really wanted, so he kissed up her thighs, leaving tiny bites along the way. Dan would kiss them later—he always kissed them—and Peggy always loved it when he did.

Phil’s mouth finally moved where he knew Peggy really wanted it—her knickers pushed aside. She tasted sweet and human and familiar, like his first love, his only love until Dan. It had scared him how he felt for Dan because it had felt so much like this. Like the warm, swelling forever fondness he felt for his wife. He’d been scared a feeling that big would’ve had the power to diminish this, but it hadn’t. Not at all.

She was gasping and grasping at his hair and his shoulders anywhere she could get her hands on it seemed as he licked into her and up and over her clit, gently sucking on it like she liked.

“ _Phil,_ fuck!”

He laughed against her. She’d never cursed before she’d met the Howells, and she still didn’t do it often, so it was funny to hear.

“I’ll kiss you here until you come. Is that what you want?”

She moved her leg so it rubbed against his cock through his trousers. “I have a better idea.”

 _Thank God._ Phil was so hard he was aching, and he was ready to feel that, to feel himself slipping inside warm, tight heat.

Phil stood back up and kissed Peggy. She’d never minded when he did that after… she’d been unsure the first time he’d tried it, but she just found she loved it. Peggy would kiss him longer, deeper, when she could taste herself in Phil’s mouth.

She reached for his belt and fumbled to undo it, so Phil helped her, but she was able to undo the button easily and pull Phil out of his pants, stroke him with her hands.

Phil was thankful he was tall and their countertops were a little shorter than standard so he was able to do this—to slide into his wife and feel her squeeze around him and hold onto him.

It felt so good and he’d been on fire all day, that it was almost hard not to finish the moment he pushed into her. They kissed and touched and shared breaths as he thrust into her. Her skirt was covering so he couldn’t see where they were joined, but he could feel it. Oh God, how he could feel it. She was beautiful and muttering his name as he slid his hand between them and made circles around her clit with his thumb.

He loved knowing her body as well he did. Loved having it, _them,_ memorized. He loved feeling her flutters and hearing her broken breaths and knowing exactly what they meant and exactly what she needed next. Eventually, when he knew the time was right, he slowed his thrusts because that’s what she needed, what helped tip her over the edge. And Phil—Phil was close to the edge too—how could he not be, after a day like today, and with a woman like this who smelled liked lavender and loved all the parts of him even before he knew how to love them himself.

“Phil, Phil, Phil…”

“God, Peg. So good, feel so good.”

“I’m… I’m…”

“I know.” He did know, and that made it so much better.

Peggy groaned—uncontrolled and beautiful—as she grasped at Phil’s shirt and contracted around him. It was tight and good and there was nothing like her noises when she came.

“I’m sorry… I need to…”

“It’s okay,” she said breathlessly. “You can.”

Phil sped up his thrusts, making them deeper and quicker, and it wasn’t long before he was feeling it too—the warm pleasure of release as it swept over him.

“Love you,” Peggy whispered quietly, kissing the side of his head. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too,” he finally managed through labored breaths. He did love her. So much, and it was incredible. He had so much love in his life that sometimes he didn’t know how he could contain it all inside him and yet he did. He did.

 

. . .

 

 

“All in all, I think that was a lovely trip to the cinema,” Dan said.

Phil glared at him. “Really?”

“I would say it was overall rather successful,” Jean chimed in.

“Would you?” Phil was pouting. It was so goddamn cute when Phil was pouting. He wished he lived in a world where he could stop here in this street, under the lamp, and kiss the pout right off Phil’s mouth.

They didn’t, though, but Dan wasn’t complaining. He knew how lucky he was. That he could have Phil at all, even as a secret. Though, not a dirty one. The good kind of secret, like the kind you have as a kid when you established your own private society under the playground slides.

In a way, this thing between the four of them was a lot like that. He and Phil and Jean and Peggy, against the world. The secret was something that drew them together, rather than tearing them apart.

“I would,” Dan said, intwining his fingers with his wife’s.

“It would’ve been fine if Jean hadn’t insulted them,” Peggy said.

“It was fine, even though I did, darling,” Jean said. If anyone overheard Jean call Peggy ‘darling’, it wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. Women often spoke that way to each other. Dan, on the other hand, could only whisper pet names to Phil in privacy.

“Only because he couldn’t understand half the words you were using,” Peggy replied.

“It’s not my problem he doesn’t speak French.”

“Or German or Russian,” Dan added.

Jean dropped his hand and walked backwards in her heels a few steps in front of him. She had that cheeky grin he’d fallen in love with, all those years ago in London, when his commanding officer had introduced them.

“It was Serbian.”

 _Serbian?_ Dan didn’t even realize… “How many fucking languages do you speak?”

That cheeky grin was still just perfect. “I’ll never tell.”

Dan just shook his head and cast a glance over at Phil, and Phil gave him a knowing look back. It made him feel warm—ridiculously gooey, like the center of one of Peggy’s chocolate chip cookies.

When they arrived at their car, Dan slid into the driver’s seat, and Phil into the passenger seat. The girls got in the back. It was about a half hour drive from the city back to their little suburb. There was a slightly faster way, but Dan opted to take the road along the coastline. It was less busy, and there were less streetlights, which meant he could reach over and take Phil’s hand in his.

He squeezed Phil’s fingers and Phil squeezed back. It made him feel on the top of the world, as high as this road was on the hills above the water, to be fortunate enough to hold Phil’s hand.

Dan glanced in the rearview mirror. It was hard to see at that angle, but he got a glimpse of his wife sat up, head leaning slightly against the window, Peggy’s head in her lap, Jean’s fingers moving through her hair.

When they got back to the house, Dan hated having to let go of Phil’s hand, but he did, and he was happy when Phil and Peggy followed him and Jean into their house, rather than heading back to theirs.

Jean turned on the light and kicked her shoes off by the mat, Peggy did too. Then, walked over to their sofa and plopped down. She rubbed her feet over her sheer stockings.

“Darling,” Jean said. “You need to stop wearing those blasted heels.”

“I need them. I don’t have the luxury of being as tall as you.”

Peggy was kind of tiny, height wise at least. She was barely five foot five.

“And I don’t have the luxury of your perfect curves. I guess we both have to suffer.”

Peggy looked at Jean the way Dan looked at Jean. “I wouldn’t call it suffering.”

“You like tall women?”

“I like you.”

Jean softened. Peggy _softened_ her, and that was good for Jean. Jean who’d spent her life surrounding herself with battlements, armor, for a world who would prefer a mind like hers in a body like Dan’s or Phil’s. Dan thought Jean’s mind was perfect right where it was.

“I like you too.” Jean said, her voice low. She tucked Peggy’s hair behind her, then leaned in to kiss her.

Dan was glad it was going to be that kind of night. It wasn’t _always_ like that. There were times when they behaved as if they were friends and nothing more, or maybe there would be small gestures of something more. But a kiss like that—that was still going on—it meant tonight could be one of those nights. Dan was ready for one of those nights.

“You girls want some drinks?” Dan asked.

“Wine,” Jean said, with little space between Peggy’s lips and her own.

“You Peggy?”

“A martini, dry? An olive if you’ve got one.”

“Come on, love,” Phil said to Dan. “If you’ve got the stuff, I know how she likes it.”

That was the thing wasn’t it. The strange, impossible, wonderful, secret thing. He did know how she likes it, and he knew how Dan liked it and how Jean liked it, and they all knew the same thing about each other.

Dan didn’t know if tonight would end up as the best nights did. With all four of them tangled up together, tied up in this secret they never spoke about outside their little club, but just the possibility… the possibility alone was almost just as good.

He walked away with Phil and stood back as Phil made the drinks with deft fingers. He could see he girls from here, cozied up on the sofa and whispering.

Phil put a drink in Dan’s hand. “Where are you?” It was said softly. It was the thing Phil said he wanted to reel Dan back in from his drifting thoughts.

“Just watching them. They’re incredible, aren’t they?”

Phil let out a soft hum. “We’re lucky men.”

“The luckiest,” Dan agreed.

“I love you,” Phil said, a little out of nowhere. It was something he’d said before, but it wasn’t something they said to each other often.

“I love you too,” Dan said. “So much.”

Before they could manage to get any sappier, Jean called out to them. “You boys comin’ with the drinks or what?”

Dan shook his head. He spared Phil one last glance—God, he really did love him. Then, Dan replied, “Yeah, yeah. Hold on. We’re coming.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i just had this ready, but there will be more six ravens soon, if you were curious about that. (there may be more of this idk, but it's finished for now)


End file.
